


Spiders

by Anonymous



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Body Horror, F/M, Spiders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 02:49:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3593553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for this prompt from the kink meme:</p><p>Mindfang knows that her matesprit will kill her one day.</p><p>The Summoner doesn't, he's just happy as hell.</p><p>I'd like either angst from the Summoner as he kills her, or Mindfang knowing that her time is approaching and accepting it, and still loving him anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

They never suspected her. Oh, they knew her crimes and her nature, knew her for a conniver and a deceiver, a pirate and a thief, a high-stakes gam8ler and a treacherous manipul8or. They even knew her now, at this very moment, in this very room, to be a double – no, triple – even unto eightfold agent, playing at the Great Game in true service to no master but herself. They were not fool enough to trust her to be anything but self-centered, and that was how she fooled them.  
No, present company was exemplary in its distrust: Her Imperial Condescension, the Grand Highblood, and one Marquise Spinneret Mindfang, even her blue blood humbled before such exalted personages. Or so she claimed insincerely, and so they pretended to believe, knowing that she knew they knew she was lying, and knowing that she knew they knew she knew they knew she was lying. It was, she conceded, a magnificently convoluted web of pretense and treachery, one that once would have intrigued her for years. She spared a moment to regret the impending aesthetic loss.  
The very image of dutiful obedience, she dictated her latest report on the inner workings of the Summoner's rebellion, or at least as much of them as she was privy to as a known double agent. That is to say, the Summoner had revealed every last secret of the rebellion to his pitied matesprit, and what little he didn't consider important enough to brief her on, she compelled out of his low-blooded staff with her psychic powers. Doubtless much had changed since she learned of it – after all, no plan survives contact with the enemy – and she was naturally coloring the details to paint a more self-serving picture, but she took pains to preserve enough truth to be the best information source they had. It was unlikely that her companions would be weak enough to hesitate on that count, but even that slight chance had to be grasped at.  
Enough. Her mind reached out, long hours of practice controlling her face and body to show no sign of the effort. Not to her present companions – their exalted blood protected them from her mind tricks, and well they knew it – but further, to a low-blooded mind as well known to her as her own. Delicately, she took over just one of his eyes to orient herself. As she had requested, the pen and paper were already at hand. Reaching out with his hand, she sketched out a single heart before scribing her last report to the rebellion.  
After so many years of lies, it was liberating to finally deal in truths: spoken truths to her enemies that might yet lead them to their doom, written truths to her matesprit that might yet lead him to triumph. Until finally she wrote, "Do it now," punctuating the sentence with one last heart.


	2. Chapter 2

It was still unnerving to watch his hand writing of its own – or rather, Spinneret's – volition, even after all the months of practice. Unnerving, and yet… he cherished the sensation, like one last caress from his audacious matesprit. Here in the privacy of his tent, halfway across the planet from her, he wished it would never end.

Of course it did. "Do it now," he read, and he focused his mind to reach out – not to her, for he'd never been able to reach a troll mind, no matter that they'd tried until both of them had headaches – but to his hidden commando force, thousands of spider grubs burrowed into Spinneret's flesh and held in stasis by his talent until the skin had healed over, until she was a walking arsenal of venomous death, undetectable by the security measures that searched for weapons and power sources, but never simple living flesh.

Awakened, they tore their way out of their fleshly disguise under his guidance. Eights of thousands of eyes finally opened to the light, and he saw everything in a dazzling faceted panorama. The Condesce had leapt back and was scrambling for the door, while the Grand Highblood had closed in with a savage grin, grappling with Spinneret even as the spider grubs tunneled from her flesh to his. Spinneret herself was – magnificent! – still fighting through the pain, through the blood and the lacerated muscles. She was no match for the Grand Highblood in close quarters.

He heard her scream through a thousand tiny spider ears, and gave her what mercy he could by sending a column of spiders up into her brain. As her higher cognitive functions faltered, the barrier finally gave and the Summoner found himself entering the mind of what had once been his glorious Marquise, but was now no more than a dying troll-shaped beast. Weeping bitter tears with his own eyes, he took control of her body. No longer fighting, he simply held fast to the Grand Highblood as the spiders consumed them both, accepting the pain as a penance for destroying the 8ravest troll he had ever known.


End file.
